Chronicles of the Silver Rose Company

This campaign is my attempt to play a canonical Planescape campaign using the updated Pathfinder ruleset. The game actually predates the release of Pathfinder, but we have managed to update as we have needed.

Justin manages to remember his manners, and bows properly (for a change) at the gift.

"You are most generous my Lady. I for one am glad that we were able to help. And thank you once again for your assistance in helping to heal the World Ash. I daresay that both Lauralie and her mother will both be pleased with the the exchange." He says with a grin.

When the gratitudes are finishing, Justin ambles over next to Merle.

"Well Merle? Shall we go see what our would-be enemies were carrying? I have a powerful curiosity about whatever wand that death's-head jester was trying to use. And any caster capable of casting an enhanced fireball probably has something worthwhile in his belt pouch! Let's go have a look see, shall we?" He grins amiably, then heads toward the bodies,...

Isaac bows, accepting the precious stone.
"Thank you, Lady Meralindiel. I hope the future for you and your people will be a bright one. And you have our deepest condolences on the loss of your grandson. Should you require anything else of us, please do not hesitate to ask."

He claps Phaumee on the shoulder and speaks in his courtly Sylvan, modified here and there with a ratatosk chirp or whistle.

Sylvan:

Spoiler:

"No finer guardian could be requested, my friend. May thy springs be long and thy winters be short. Mayhap thou hast a message to deliver to thy kin upon the World Ash? I pray thee, do not hesitate to entreat me to act as thy courier."

"Alright, cutters. Let's turn out the pockets on these berks and get back to the World Ash- we still got a ways to go and a bloody foul growth to burn out on our way."

"You reckon she wants to talk about it with the people that threw him around and cut him into pieces? She's likely to need some time to sort this out at her own pace; this ain't something a few minutes of well-meaning palaver will sort out. If ye ask me, at least."

"Thank you lady," Karrin says when she see the gem, "But we were just doing what most folks would have, nothing special or anything, and I'd have settled for a nice stack of pancakes. With maple syrup. There are few things in life as nice as a nice hot meal after a good bit of work and even though I really didn't build up a sweat or anything, I kind of felt we did good work here. Pass on my condolences to Jena though, that thing I had to put down wasn't her brother, he likely died years ago when he was twisted by the winter queen's words, and the monstrosity that was left wasn't the brother that she'd loved for so many years.

"Anyways . . . we'd probably best be getting on our way soon, but I think we have time for one last meal. I'm thinking you have ways of knowing what we'd like to eat. I think pancakes was mentioned by someone. That sounds really good right about now."

"So pretty," she said, holding her stone up to the light, entranced by the play of color. She blushed and curtsied. "Thank you, Lady," she said shyly. Her trauma towards elves seems to be gone, but she is still a little shy.

"I am so happy that you are able to grow and thrive now, Lauralia."

Seeing her counterpart's glare she carefully kept her distance from Sanna. She knew that it hurt Sanna's pride to not have been able to participate in the fight and not pay back her debt to Lauralia.

Ekuur holds up the gem and marvels at the bright red color, like flame. "My thanks. It is lovely, like the fires that scoured this world clean of the Winter Queen. I know where it should go." Ekuur hold up the obsidian orb he wears as his holy symbol, and envisions the stone mounted on the chain just below ...

He also checks on Lauralia, thankful the sapling is still fine. "Please, should you ever need assistance, let us know."

Karrin is now leveled up. She now has an 18 STR and a spell that lets her go invisible as a swift action, an ability that she's sure not to abuse at all.

Karrin kneels and quickly cleans off her axe:

"Don't worry my precious," Karrin whispers to her axe, "I didn't miss your work out there. Very nice. We'll take out the rotting evil piece by piece. Yes we will. We're doing Rao's work. Some must remain unforgiven. Perhaps in the afterlife they'll find some redemption. Let us pray for the elf. His sister morns his loss."

Karrin says a few words for the dead and then returns to her feet:

"Alright everyone," Karrin says, "I think we got to get some eats and then get moving. Am I right boss man?"

searching the undead wizard and the two goo piles reveal quite a bit of loot. They all wore spider silk cloaks embroidered in fantastic fractal webbing. Crooknecks boots look fancy, tooled in soft leather. The Gigglers boots look as if they were made of polar bear fur.

Lady Hel's liquid form oozes around her elaborate leather armor, tooled in Drow runes and spiders.

The Giggler sports two wicked short swords and Lady Hel has the long spear with which she jousted with Rhiannon.

Lady Hel's ruin also gives forth two bottles that contain some solid black liquid. There is a larger, seemingly empty bottle with a blue crystal stopper.

Crookshanks leathery fingers have two rings on them. In a small satchel slung on his side are two scroll tubes, and a velvet bag filled with a rainbow assortment of gems. He wears an elaborate headband inlaid with flashing quartz crystals.

After the trying chore of looting the noisome corpses, the group retires to their chambers and washes up. They spend the rest of the afternoon being dressed by the Hanalindrim court's fleet of tailors for their farewell feast.

The court shows up in full fig, the elven nobles resplendent in silks and cloth of gold. Lady Meralindiel sits at the head of the feast hall,, and the party is seated at her table. Justin is seated to her immediate right

Karrin is delighted to see several huge stacks of pancakes dripping with syrup and dozens of different fruits.

Justin is honored, and surprised, by his seating, and appropriately grateful. He behaves himself during the feast, proving that he can indeed behave and be quite charming, when he isn't trying to be clever.

Presuming that the ladies are dolled up,... ;)
Justin's jaw drops when Merle, Nari and Karrin walk up to the table. Isaac casually reaches over and snaps it shut for him with a clack of teeth. Afterwords Justin seems to avoid looking at the girls. At least directly. (He's afraid he'll start staring again.)

Justin looks downright dashing in the heavy coat of royal blue the elves provided. And he is caught more than once admiring the view in a reflection of silverware. It isn't his leather coat of course, but that was a total loss. That last fireball was just the last straw for his poor abused wardrobe. There wasn't even enough left for a Mend spell to work with. And the dark blue does show off the red of his armor crystal he decides.

Justin follows Karrin's example with a laugh, and also starts his meal with a helping of pancakes.

Wow, that is a LOT of loot! :) ($$$!!!) ;) I'm sure that Merle and Justin can probably figure it all out. Given time. But during the meal Justin will ask if there is any chance the elvin mages would be willing to assist them in ID'ing all of the items and their functions? Both to avoid triggering unpleasant accidents in game, and to make it quicker in RL? :D

Nari's green eyes were wide with wonder as she tried to take everything in at once. She'd served at many such banquets in the past, but she'd never attended one as a guest. It felt strange. While the painful memories were still there, still a vital part of what made her who she was, in many ways now it was as if they had happened to someone else. Which in a way they had. She smoothed her hands over the green silk dress. She liked the color. It reminded her of Lauralia's leaves. And the fabric felt so smooth and nice. Then again, so did her skin now that it wasn't covered in scar tissue. She couldn't help but smile.The food was amazingly good. She savored every bite carefully, enjoying the newness of the sensation. She didn't attempt to participate in conversation more than any polite reply that was required. She was much more concerned with observing everything and everyone around her. Well, except for when she whispered an urgent request to Merle to see if she could help prestidigitate the syrup out of her hair. Karrin tended to splash when she was distracted.

She was much more concerned with observing everything and everyone around her. Well, except for when she whispered an urgent request to Merle to see if she could help prestidigitate the syrup out of her hair. Karrin tended to splash when she was distracted.

Ha!

Karrin is busy preforming magic of her own as she makes stack after stack of pancakes disappear. Where are they all going? How can someone so average sized eat so much? By the time Karrin slows (possibly to realize that people are staring at her) she has polished off five helpings and is beginning to remember something about etiquette.

Karrin quickly holds up a napkin to her face so she can lick it clean. Her devilish tongue seems to have a natural sense for food and is somehow able to detect traces of pastry and syrup that Karrin shouldn't even be able to see or feel. Almost independently traces are rounded up and directed to the mouth anywhere within it's reach (from nose to chin and almost from ear to ear). Then Karrin politely folds her napkin and places it carefully on her lap.

"This is truly a lovely meal m'lady," Karrin says in practiced elven, "And I hope that we can visit you and our friends Lauralia and Phaumee when things have settled a little. I'd love to see more of the city and hear more of your music and poetry. I know I'm not fantastically cultured and stuff but I did wish I wasn't here on business so to speak. I feel like a proper visit can't be rushed."

Merle Initally polietly but firmly turns down the offer of fancy clothes wanting to attend the meal in her regular attire. An hour of pleading from Seph however turned that round and she found herself sitting in a more fancy version of her normal robes.

During the meal she keeps to herself mostly because she is watching in wonder/horror as Karrin goes through plate after plate of food whilst at the same time beginning to form a theory that there must be a portal to another plane somewhere In Karrin's stomach. Hearing Nari's request she does her best to prestigate the mess away faster than Karrin can make it.

Accustomed to high society events in her youth, Rhiannon enjoys the opportunity to indulge in a bit of finery. She attends the banquet in a gown of resplendant red silk accented by black lace, the low decollotage and bare shoulders highlighting the elegant dragonmark working it's way down her chest, her somewhat short hair styled immaculately, her look polished by beautiful jewelry of ruby and rose gold.

As her friends take in the transformation she cannot help but smile. It wasn't the first time someone accustomed to her battlefield appearance had been stunned by her ability to fit in at court.

Ekuur dresses simply but neatly, and is his usual, quiet self at dinner. He talks only enough to be polite, and often begins finding his mind wandering back to Sigil and his temple, finding himself anxious to get back to his flock. And also a bit back to the Plane of Fire, and other "friends" ...

"This is truly a lovely meal m'lady," Karrin says in practiced elven, "And I hope that we can visit you and our friends Lauralia and Phaumee when things have settled a little. I'd love to see more of the city and hear more of your music and poetry. I know I'm not fantastically cultured and stuff but I did wish I wasn't here on business so to speak. I feel like a proper visit can't be rushed."

Isaac stared at the table settings. The array of forks, knives and spoons arranged in a seemingly random progression leaving him a bit flummoxed. A blood he met once said a cutter's supposed to work from the outside in... but who's to say how things work on a given plane? Isaac pulled at the collar of his new shirt and started with the tiny fork on the left. Between Justin and Meralindiel discussing... sod all.... and the ladies forming their own clique down the table while Karrin stuffed her face and Ekuur remaining as dour as usual Isaac contented himself knowing that there's no wrong way to drink at least...

As the meal continues, the carafes begin to empty a bit faster and Isaac's nose and ears get more and more red.

during the dinner, Lady Meralindiel talks quite a bit to Justin, often placing a hand on his arm. If he didn't know any better, he would swear she was attracted to him

. I will post a loot list. Let's assume you will get them IDed

Justin smiles. It may be the release of the stress of the recent events, the pleasant company, the fine food, the drink, (most likely a combination of all of the above) But he is clearly enjoying himself, and apparently as comfortable speaking with the learned lady as he usually is trading quips with his team mates.

In truth, he had to dust off manners he hadn't found much use for since landing in Sigil. But once he did he quickly fell back into old habits easily enough. He found himself enjoying the atmosphere and high-society interchange as much as he did the pleasant company of his host. The feelings he had when he had first met Lady Meralindial, the almost mystical, overwhelming urge to,... well, worship her, were still there, but faded to a pleasant background buzz. (Or was that the wine?)

For her part, the Lady was the perfect host. Neglecting no one, leaving no one out of conversation, (Justin swears she got Ekuur to almost crack a small smile. Once. Long after Justin himself had given up on doing so.) Yet she seems to have an almost magical knack for re-engaging Justin in conversation just as his attention is captured by one of the other ladies,... dresses.

Dungeon Monkey wrote:

"Perhaps after dinner you would like to tour my private library?" she asks him, after they finish a detailed discussion of glamour magic and the writings of ancient Draconic scholars

Justin grins, taking a moment to make sure he gets the pronunciation correct. (Elvish is difficult enough without an alcohol-assisted tongue tripping over all the extended vowels.)

"My Lady, I would be honored." He responds formally in elvish.

He continues in Sigil common, "Truly, I would be delighted. Thank you!"

Justin remembers an elvish teacher once telling him that ones library was a reflection of themselves. Both in what it contained, and in how it was ordered. He briefly realized that the Lady was possibly offering him a personal glimpse of herself. The human equivalent of a very personal, soul-baring conversation.

Somewhere, a little version of Justin in a white coat was telling him to be careful. But it was mostly drowned out by the one in the red coat drunkenly shouting 'YEAH! Your the man!'

Isaac stared at the table settings. The array of forks, knives and spoons arranged in a seemingly random progression leaving him a bit flummoxed. A blood he met once said a cutter's supposed to work from the outside in... but who's to say how things work on a given plane? Isaac pulled at the collar of his new shirt and started with the tiny fork on the left. Between Justin and Meralindiel discussing... sod all.... and the ladies forming their own clique down the table while Karrin stuffed her face and Ekuur remaining as dour as usual Isaac contented himself knowing that there's no wrong way to drink at least...

As the meal continues, the carafes begin to empty a bit faster and Isaac's nose and ears get more and more red.

. Issac stares off from the tables, his face flushed. He notices another diner excusing herself from the table. It's the summoner girl Jena, almost unrecognizible in a diaphanous gown of silver silk and pearls. Her dark brown hair is done in an elaborate coif, and she looks every inch the princess. However, her eyes are bloodshot, and her mouth is set in a sad cast. She wanders out of the hall, heading down the main hallway

Accustomed to high society events in her youth, Rhiannon enjoys the opportunity to indulge in a bit of finery. She attends the banquet in a gown of resplendant red silk accented by black lace, the low decollotage and bare shoulders highlighting the elegant dragonmark working it's way down her chest, her somewhat short hair styled immaculately, her look polished by beautiful jewelry of ruby and rose gold.

As her friends take in the transformation she cannot help but smile. It wasn't the first time someone accustomed to her battlefield appearance had been stunned by her ability to fit in at court.

Rhiannon finds herself at the center of several young men, eager to discuss her thrilling battle with Lady Hel

Seph attends the meal In his child form the tailors having done there best to either make alterations to his current robe or making him new clothes with the same magical properties.

He spends most the meal like an excited child trying a bit of everything and asking questions about what such and such food was. Clearly enjoying himself

Seph is astounded by the many exotic dishes. A pleasant elvish woman nearby answers many of his questions about the food, identifying new fruits, vegetables and the like that make up the many dishes. A fruit known as Derelinthiel is especially tasty, combining the flavors of coconut, vanilla and chocolate within its creamy flesh

Isaac stared at the table settings. The array of forks, knives and spoons arranged in a seemingly random progression leaving him a bit flummoxed. A blood he met once said a cutter's supposed to work from the outside in... but who's to say how things work on a given plane? Isaac pulled at the collar of his new shirt and started with the tiny fork on the left. Between Justin and Meralindiel discussing... sod all.... and the ladies forming their own clique down the table while Karrin stuffed her face and Ekuur remaining as dour as usual Isaac contented himself knowing that there's no wrong way to drink at least...

As the meal continues, the carafes begin to empty a bit faster and Isaac's nose and ears get more and more red.

. Issac stares off from the tables, his face flushed. He notices another diner excusing herself from the table. It's the summoner girl Jena, almost unrecognizible in a diaphanous gown of silver silk and pearls. Her dark brown hair is done in an elaborate coif, and she looks every inch the princess. However, her eyes are bloodshot, and her mouth is set in a sad cast. She wanders out of the hall, heading down the main hallway

Isaac clears his throat after a moment and stands, slowly and with somewhat exaggerated care.

"This has been a top-shelf meal, Lady Meralindiel, and I doubt any of us has eaten finer or dressed finer in our memory. Rest assured, the grace and hospitality of the Hanalindrim shall be known throughout the Wheel once we have sadly departed your company. As for myself, however, I must beg your pardon and excuse myself as I've a wish to enjoy one final view of your plane's stars before we leave for Sigil where we are poorer for lacking them."
He bows to the hostess and those gathered.
"A good night to you all.", he says finally before calmly heading toward the main hallway.

Issac takes his leave of the feast, to the murmured pleasantries of Lady Meralindiel and the courtiers. Others are starting to gravitate to a large dance floor, near which some bards are tuning a panoply of exotic instruments.

Issac doesn't see Jena at first, but his keen perception and sense of direction leads him on. The sound of high heels ascending a spiral tower stair leads him uPwards, through a slender shaft of rose quartz set with large windows of stained glass depIcting various scenes of love and battle.

He emerges onto an observation deck, made of crosscut rough pink quartz like the tower. A slender crystal wall surrounds the edge to a four-foot height. There is one break in the clear wall, which leads out onto a narrow walkway fashioned of a dark wood. The walkway fans out in a circle at the end. Issac recognizes it as a griffon perch. Many of the higher towers in Hanalindali have them.

Out on the griffon perch, Jena stands alone. The light from the full moon turns her silver gown into a mist of sParkles.

Isaac walks slowly toward the perch, focused on Jena standing there. He stops at the short wall beside the perch.

"Jena. Listen, I wanted to tell ye that I'm sorry about Maelrin. You must feel terrible, especially given that celebration downstairs... and I hate cliches and all, but... ye won't feel this bad forever. But things won't improve unless you give 'em a chance, right? So why not take a few steps back here and we can sort this out?"

She listens to his words, then looks out at the city spread below them, the valley beyond awash in moonlit shadows. Her eyes shine with unshed tears

"I appreciate your sentiment, Ser, I do. I should apologize for my cousins actions brought dishonor on us all. I just wish ..."

She straightens up a bit and walks over to where Issac is standing. He had been aware that she was a beautiful girl before, but with the hectic pace of the last two days he had not really gotten a good look at her. Dressed in a wispy silk gown slashed deeply down the front and with jewels sparkling from her ears and along the curve of her neck she was quite the stunner. Her light brown skin seems to shine in the silver light.

"I do not know how it is with your folk, but we Hanalindrim do not often have children. We do not age as other races do, we live until killed by mischance, war or anger. I am 267 winters old, but I am reckoned a mere child next to my grandmother, although we both look the same age. She counts her life in ages rather than years."

Jena's soft brown eyes look up into Issac's

"Maelrin and I were of an age, we were Farsimamun together, childhood companions. In a place where children are few and noble children fewer this counts as an important person in your life"

Jena's eyes glisten and she shivers

"Maelrin was the scion of Korrath, one of the last Elven heros who fought the Winter Queen in the Winter Wars. He was kept here for fostering, but his home and his father along with all his kin perished in those grim days of our final retreat into the Vale of Eagles. I was his only confidant, the only one he shared his hopes and dreams with"

Jena sighs and a tear runs down her cheek

"I always knew that he harbored feelings for me, but Hanalindrim do not marry cousins any more than we marry a brother or sister. He kept his feelings unsaid, but it put a distance between us as the years passed. He became a captain of some renown fighting the hosts of the Morkarthau, I concentrated on my summoning. It's just now I wonder if perhaps.."

she begins to hitch a bit in the speech

"If perhaps this treachery was a way to have me for his own. I cannot think why else he would betray all he supposedly held dear"

"I don't tumble.. er, I don't think anyone can really know what he was promised or his reasons. Could be as ye say- or maybe he felt limited and the Ice Spider's people promised him power. After all, yer grandmother's been in charge for ages, eh? And likely ages to come. No place for new blood to go, after a point...."

He looks out into the stars, like something good to say will be written there.

"... but as someone that's lost people before and someone that's had a knife in the back a time or two, I'd warn ye against makin' too many excuses fer your cousin. He turned on you as much as he did to everyone else. Whatever his reasons, he didn't really have your interest at heart even if he thought he did. I ain't sayin' don't remember him fondly- you should- but if ye start lookin' for who to blame ye'll tie yerself in knots."

Isaac puts his hands on Jena's shoulders and looks her in the eye.

"Now, what I think is important is teh start considering the future. When the dust is settled, it seems your people need new blood- maybe elves from a different plane that haven't lived so long in a closed community, if you'll forgive me for bein' blunt. Elves around your age. Lauralie is planted; if ye have access to Yggdrasil through her- well, the planes are at yer fingertips aren't they? If ye keep good relations with the ratatosk it should be easier teh find your way up to Arborea or Elysium or Ysgard- or even Sigil, where we're based- and look for more of your people. Or elves like on my father's side o' the family- shorter lived, maybe, but with their own unique identities to add teh yours. Because I get the feeling that, as wonderful as yer home is, your people have to keep moving out of this siege mindset and look outward again. At least, that's the way it looks to me as an outsider. Somethin' teh consider, at least, when you've had time to mourn for your cousin."

Justin laughs at Seph's eagerness to try the new foods, and smirks, just a tiny bit, at Rhiannon's group of admirers. He waves jauntily to Issac as he excuses himself, and turns back towards his hostess.

"Isaac has the right of it my Lady. Your folk certainly know how to celebrate. And I'm glad, and honored, to be here." Justin says with a bow of his head. "And I'm glad that there's something to celebrate." He adds softly as he watches groups start to drift towards the large, central dance floor. HE leans back, taking a deep breath.

"And I think I've had enough of this most excellent vintage. For now." He says smiling. "I have never been the best dancer. But I confess to a serious curiosity about the dances your people have!" He laughs, standing.

She stands and takes Justin's hand, leading him over to the dance floor.

The Hanalindrim favor close dances with graceful swirling motions and flourishes like dipping. Justin concentrates hard so as to not be distracted by the demigod-like charisma of his dance partner. His years of wizardry mental gymnastics aid him in keeping his composure

Jena trembles in Issacs hug. She smells of lavender and girl, a heady brew

"There is much to what you have said, Issac. We have been isolated here for many ages, beset with enemies and closed off from the multiverse. Lauralia's arrival marks the beginning of a new age for us, as does your heroic destruction of the Morkarthau."

She looks up into Issac's eyes. Her lips grow closer and she plants a soft kiss on his lips

"Perhaps I need to take the first step in opening our culture to new things. Would you do me the honor of spending the night with me? I don't want to be alone, and I would hear more of Sigil and the planes."

Sanna is observing the festivities from the vantage point of an out-of-the-way corner of the room. Her dark blue dress looks severe in comparison to the other ladies, but Seph would know that the reason for the cut of the dress is to hide the scars on her body. Unlike Nari, Sanna does not appear to be observing with wonder but rather looking for weak points. It was a habit. She was, after all, a Mai'im, and politics were the natural realm of her house.

Feline:

"I suppose I have to thank you for saving me earlier. You have my gratitude," she said tersely, not even glancing in Seph's direction as she spoke.

Rhiannon thoroughly enjoys the attention, seldom having the opportunity to indulge herself. She plays the perfect blend of both noble born lady, understanding the subtle nuances of every guesture and veiled statement, and bold warrior not above plainly stating her desires.

It would seem that tonight she would have opportunity to engage in a far more pleasant type of physical exchange, and that she had her pick of "sparring" partners.

Rhiannon's dance card is literally filled as several Hanalindrim nobles vie for her attention. She spends a wonderful evening engaged in dance. A particularaly rakish captain from the Order of the Winds resplendent in a court uniform of glittering blue slashed with silver piping catches her eye. He is named Nermerin, and he looks to be a fun sparring partner. As they dance, he casually mentions his mount is outside if she would be interested in a night ride.

"Why would I not be? I have a body of my own, and soon I will be able to put all these decades of plotting my revenge against my father to good use. I mean to take everything from him and I don't doubt that I can do it. I was less than pleased at not being able to truly repay my debt to Lauralia, but aside from that I am fine. Only impatient. The game of politics here is interesting in the abstract but it is not my game and I wish to return as quickly as possible. I do not require your concern, child."

"How many times do I have to explain it to you? I'm not a nice person. I had to pretend to be in order to get that girl to let me have more time with our body, but that doesn't make it true. I...am not one who wishes to play second fiddle to any, let alone slowly work my way up a ladder with all the top rungs filled when I know that I can have power and wealth at home. And all I have to do to get it is to follow the family tradition and pay a long overdue debt to my father. I have more in common with their enemies than I do with the people here. Don't let the pointy ears fool you. Not all elves are alike. Where I come from, the grey ones, my kind, the only thing that separates us from the drow is a love of law and order...and a lack of light sensitivity and gender discrimination, but you get the point. These are not my kind."

She stands and takes Justin's hand, leading him over to the dance floor.

The Hanalindrim favor close dances with graceful swirling motions and flourishes like dipping. Justin concentrates hard so as to not be distracted by the demigod-like charisma of his dance partner. His years of wizardry mental gymnastics aid him in keeping his composure

Justin swiftly finds his time being divided between keeping his balance, his composure, and his head. And having a jolly good time doing it. The low, slow dips and bows remind Justin of Karrin's early morning warm-up routines. (SOmething she called 'Tie-Chee', or something.) The turns and spins caused all of the participants to blur together in a kaleidoscope of color. He found the effect both hypnotic and exhilarating. And not unpleasant. He found that not looking, quite, directly at his otherwordly dance partner helped lessen the impact of her unoearthly beauty. And when he did look at her, he recited certain cantrips backwards. When he could remember too.

Fortunately his reflexes had been honed almost as much as his mind since his arrival in Sigil, and they served to help him keep up with the dance steps without making a complete fool of himself. Or at least not falling flat on his face. Although compared to the sheer elegance of these elves he was stumbling about with two left feet. Fortunately for him the Lady had enough grace for both of them. And seemed willing to share.

He caught a glimpse of Rhiannon at one point, trading dance partners like most girls traded dresses. He thought he caught a glimpse of Karrin during another spin. But he may have been mistaken. He had never seen Karrin wearing a look of surprise before. He was spun away before he could see who, or what, could give the warrior a shock.

FInally there came a pause, or something, and Justin echoed his partner's bow and panted heavily. The murmur of the crowd filled the space almost as musically as the musicians had.

"Thank you, my Lady." Justin said between gulps of air.

"I think I have just received more dance instruction in the last few minutes than I have in my entire life!" He grins and gives the Lady another bow. "And I can assure you, I have never had the fortune of such a beautiful instructor!"

Something about the dance tugs at the back of Justin's mind. There was a pattern, that much was obvious, but there was something else as well. It was almost as if these folk had elevated dancing beyond an art form. It was almost another language.

Before he could reason it out further, he was whisked back into the spinning maelstrom of color. Long gone was his potential headache from drink or fear of stomachache from having eaten too much. Now there was only keeping up with his dance partner. And he was determined that if he was never to be the best partner she had ever danced with, he would at least be the most enthusiastic learner.